When It Rains, It Pours - 6
"If Manager Kang Yunho of Daseogak will consent to an audience with the Mangeum Lord, we shall suspend the seizure."
Perhaps even a clerk of Mangeum Hall could not afford to ignore the merchants' guild master's influence—or perhaps he had simply been waiting for an out. Either way, he accepted the mediation with suspicious speed.
The sudden crisis had been brought to a close, and that much was a relief. But now I found myself bound for Wuhan, a destination that had never appeared on any itinerary of mine.
They had made it plain I would not be granted much time. I would have to throw my belongings together and depart at once.
Getting to Wuhan itself posed no great difficulty; Yichang was joined to Wuhan by the Yangtze. The real question was whether it was acceptable to solve one problem by sweeping another under the rug.
"We know she's in there!"
"Harboring a runaway courtesan! Have you no shame!"
I had barely returned home after halting Mangeum Hall's seizure when I found a pack of ruffians bellowing themselves hoarse in front of the printing house door.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"A black-hair? You're Kang Yunho of Daseogak! You bastard! You're the one hiding her, aren't you?"
One of the ruffians, having placed my face, shot a hand out for my collar.
On pure instinct I stepped back a quick pace, the same way I'd learned to slip Im Hayeon's thrown pebbles. The man's arm stretched farther. I twisted to let the grab slide past, then caught his wrist and pulled.
"Urk!"
His balance shattered, and in a single breath he was rolling across the dirt, learning exactly what soil tasted like.
"What's the meaning of this? Attacking a man without so much as a word of warning."
So the training with Im Hayeon was paying off. Swallowing my satisfaction, I asked as if nothing had happened.
"A black-hair is a martial artist?!"
"Young Master Kang! Are you unharmed? They claim to hail from some gambling den in Wuhan—raising hell and demanding we hand over the runaway courtesan."
The escorts of Seocheon Escort Agency arrived belatedly, shouldering through the startled crowd.
First Mangeum Hall, and now Haomen thugs. Just what kind of day was this?
The endless cascade of trouble was giving me a headache, but I let none of it show as I studied the Haomen men. Did they actually know Im Hayeon was here? Or was it mere suspicion?
"What is this rampage in front of another man's house? Withdraw quietly, and no one needs to get hurt."
For now, I would play dumb. I leveled the warning at them with a face carved from stone. In answer, one of the Haomen men swaggered forward and planted himself before me.
"Kang Yunho of Daseogak."
Had this man been raised on a diet of blades? Scars carved here, there, and everywhere across his face, growling my name with a scowl—intimidating as hell, I'll grant him that.
"What of it?"
"Do you mean to hide her for the rest of your life?"
The ruffian spat the words at me as if he knew everything already.
"I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Then hide her for life. Wall her up inside your house, treasure her like a family heirloom, and do nothing but gaze at her. But if that isn't your plan, remember this: the eyes and ears of Haomen are everywhere."
"The eyes and ears I can't speak to, but I do see a fine pack of scoundrels howling their heads off in front of an innocent man's door."
I let a thin smile creep across my face as I lobbed the barb at the Haomen men, who kept glancing uneasily toward the escorts.
"Ha! So the rumors were true. Tell that woman it is not yet too late. If she returns now, she'll be spared the ugly sight. But when Lady Hyangju of the Gambler Division reaches the end of her patience, the sight will not be pretty—for the woman in hiding, or for the man hiding her."
"What did this bastard just say?"
The threat had barely left his mouth before one of the escorts flinched, hand darting to his sword hilt.
"Tell her! Even if everything that once shielded her turns to ash overnight! Even if the very people who protected her come to glare at her with hatred in their eyes—let's see if she can bear it!"
"We stood by quietly, and now you threaten people on ground under Seocheon Escort Agency's protection?!"
"Th-that's enough! We withdraw!"
Apparently the scarred man had lost his appetite for more knife-dinners, because he backpedaled away and hustled off with his crew, quick as you please.
If you're going to threaten someone, at least follow through. All that bluster, then fleeing in reverse—now that just looks pathetic.
"Should I be sprinkling salt on the doorstep or something?"
Every species of lowlife imaginable was crawling out of the woodwork today.
With incidents and calamities showing no sign of letting up, believer or not, I was fast approaching the point where a memorial rite was in order. Perhaps I'd set out a smiling pig's head and give it a try.
Though come to think of it, once the rites were done, leaving the pig's head with the butcher to be boiled into pork slices and eaten alongside a steaming bowl of gukbap was a delicacy in its own right...
And suddenly I was craving gukbap. I heaved a small sigh and opened the printing house door.
"You're back?"
"Gah! Make some noise when you move around, will you."
Im Hayeon popped out from a corner, greeting me in a hushed voice, careful lest anyone overhear.
"......"
Had she been standing behind that door listening to every word?
She couldn't bring herself to lift her head, worry written all over her face. So she had heard everything that had been snarled at me. Whatever had become of her standoffish-cat act?
"I have no intention of ever looking at you with resentment."
It isn't your fault, after all.
She must have worked all day—the ink on her sleeves and face sat there unwiped—and the sight of her standing there, utterly at a loss, ached somewhere behind my ribs.
"Um..."
"Let's go inside and talk."
We had a great deal to talk about.
"Daseogak is being handed over to Mangeum Hall?"
I gave Im Hayeon a summary of the day's events.
"Not yet, it isn't."
"What are you going to do?"
"I intend to call on Mangeum Hall in Wuhan myself."
However legitimately Mangeum Hall had purchased the debt, nothing about today had followed any ordinary procedure. They had appeared without warning and demanded a seizure on the spot.
What were they after? What did they truly want? Creditor and debtor needed to come face to face and find out.
"You're going to Wuhan alone?"
"I asked at Seocheon Escort Agency. They said manning the printing house guard and an escort detail at the same time was beyond them. Travel by ship, though, and a solo trip is safe enough. I'll slip down and back before anyone notices."
For all of Seocheon Escort Agency's renown, its Yichang branch was still short-handed.
For me, a quick voyage there and back would suffice—which meant Im Hayeon's safety came first. Even against the branch manager's earnest protests, I had refused the escort.
"......"
Had she sensed the consideration in that? Im Hayeon knitted her brow, and her face clouded over in anguish.
"Banish whatever strange ideas you're brewing and stay comfortable here at the printing house for now."
"...No."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm coming with you. To Wuhan."
Daseogak could vanish.
In a situation like that, how long could she go on being protected?
Im Hayeon looked up at Kang Yunho with eyes hardened by resolve.
"Set foot in Wuhan and you could be dragged away in chains. Even with escorts at your side, no one can foresee every contingency. I will go alone and return alone."
"And Jeon Gilsan? What if that man pulls something? He's exactly the sort who would, isn't he?"
"......"
Kang Yunho could not readily deny it.
"Haa. See? It isn't only me perched on your shoulders."
Im Hayeon let out a small sigh, then carefully took his wrists in both hands. Physical contact—one of the courtesan's arts she had been taught, a way of casting a small, sly lure at a man who had caught her heart.
These were the first wrists of a man outside her world she had ever held in her life. Barely mastering the wild pounding beneath her ribs, she raised her eyes to his, which brimmed with worry.
The wicked merchant, Kang Yunho.
Back in Wushan she had mistaken him for a heartless profiteer. But what sort of man had she found since coming to Yichang?
He gave midday meals and rest hours to employees who were going hungry. He dressed her in silks she had never once dreamed of wearing. He handed a nobody from the humblest of Gates the courage to keep on living. He gave her a dream to reach toward.
"All this requires is a look at the Mangeum Lord's face. No argument you make will let me take you along."
"And if it doesn't end with a look at the Mangeum Lord's face? What if you find you need at least one person who can keep the ledgers, run errands at a sprint, entertain guests without a misstep, and be put to any task you like whenever you need her?"
"There is no need for you to court danger on my account."
"There is no need for you to court danger on mine, either."
Im Hayeon flung his own words straight back at him.
"......"
"Just as yours does, my dream lives in Daseogak."
These past months had been like a dream.
She wanted to tear off the identity of a courtesan and be done with it. She wanted to try living like an ordinary woman.
She wanted to do the work she wished to do and chase the dreams she wished to dream. She wanted to befriend ordinary older sisters and younger sisters—not fellow courtesans—and giggle with them over the smallest nothings.
And then, somehow, along the way, she had met a man who lodged strangely in her thoughts...
At the absurdity of it, Im Hayeon smiled faintly and looked up at him without a word.
"That dream of yours—I will protect it. So wait for me."
Im Hayeon quietly shook her head.
"Haomen has scented out where I am. If we both keep hiding like this, things will only fester for the both of us."
When times were hard, he helped. When her heart was heavy, he listened.
No matter what befell her, she felt he would come running. But greed was still greed.
If she stayed burrowed in here, everything the man had built might yet burn to the ground.
The breadth of his shade had soothed her more than she could say—but the time had come to step out of that shade, take his hand, and walk forward at his side.
"There's no need to give anything up."
"Who said anything about giving up?"
For one breath, Im Hayeon flashed a smile lovely enough to knock even Kang Yunho's senses sideways, then moved toward the window. Her cheeks had gone red for some reason. Kang Yunho merely wondered whether the room had grown warm.
"So?"
"I have no intention of giving up on dreaming, either."
Im Hayeon pushed open the window and thrust out one hand. Into her palm came flying a dream—a messenger pigeon from the Haomen Yichang branch.
"Looks like the Domun crowd schemed their way into the Wushan branch chief's seat."
The Yichang branch manager of Haomen began laying out the intelligence flown in from Wushan.
"The Domun's scheming?"
"The Stratagem of Murdering with a Borrowed Knife. In Wushan, the Courtesan Division held more power than the Gamblers, you see. So they set outside scum on the courtesans, wiped them out, and swallowed the whole thing in one gulp."
"Haomen settles its own internal faction wars that way?"
The Wushan gamblers drowned the courtesan faction and climbed into the branch chief's chair? So what did they call the operation—'New Wushan'?
"They would never do such a thing! If we bring this to Wuhan's attention, wouldn't the matter be resolved?"
Im Hayeon raised her voice to deny me, then turned to the branch manager, her face bright with hope.
"The suspicion and the circumstantial evidence are airtight. The problem is, there's no smoking gun."
The Yichang branch manager clenched the papers with a look of regret.
"Oh no..."
"And do you have any idea how much I paid for this? The information seems worth rather less than the money."
The Wushan intelligence request had been my commission. They'd failed to secure the decisive intel after all that? Then my coin had been thrown down a well.
I glared at the branch manager with the eyes of a general contractor contemplating a subcontractor who had blown the delivery deadline.
"No refunds! In exchange, though, I dug a little deeper. Lately a good number of Haomen branch managers across Hubei Province have been quietly replaced, one way or another. Each with a different excuse—but every single replacement came up through the Domun."
So Wushan was not the only one?
"Now that is truly suspicious. But without decisive evidence, won't going to Wuhan change precisely nothing?"
"Wrong."
The branch manager closed in on me, his expression dead serious.
"I'm sorry—what?"
"Even without decisive evidence, there is a way to make things change."
Crack! In that instant, every gaze that had been fixed on the branch manager snapped ninety degrees sideways.
"...Huh?"
Did this bastard just slap me?
Fine—backhanding an abusive general contractor is every subcontractor's lifelong dream. But being on the receiving end of one?
Unforgivable. I funneled inner force into my right hand. Target: the manager's cheek. I swung my palm with the gusto of a farmer harvesting a couple of ears of white corn clean off the manager's face.
"Aaack! Have you lost your mind, you punk?!"
Dodging, was he? The manager scrambled backward in a flash, horror all over his face.
"Who asked you to! Why would you slap me out of nowhere?!"
"Ha. Damn it all. With a temper like that, I can practically hear it—'sworn little brother of that friend,' indeed... Anyway, here. Catch."
Wearing an expression of utter bafflement, the manager handed me something fished from inside his robe.
"What is this?"
A coin shaped like a blade?
"The Simun's iron coin. From this day forward, Kang Yunho belongs to the Haomen Simun—the Attendant Division. Furthermore, I hereby appoint you proxy of the Yichang Haomen branch."
So slapping my face was the initiation rite? What are you people, medieval knights?
"Who gave you leave to press-gang a man into Haomen? Hold still and offer that cheek. I'm returning the favor."
"A measure taken because sect-internal matters may only be touched by sect-internal people. If you mean to save your sworn brother's daughter, this is the only road."
The manager told me this while I kneaded my shoulder, his face grave beyond all measure.
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"This smells connected to the Domun Hyangju, who commands every gambler in Hubei Province. Im Hayeon belongs to the Courtesan Division, so even taking your suspicions to the Gimun Hyangju would get you nowhere. At the very least, you need the weight of a different division behind you. So take this iron coin and the evidence to the Simun Hyangju in Wuhan."
So the Haomen Yichang branch manager had come up from the tavern waiters?
In Haomen, the post that oversees each line of work, division by division, is called Hyangju.
The Gimun Hyangju of Hubei Province was, in effect, the overseer of every Haomen courtesan in the province. And their opposite number was the Domun Hyangju.
Raising the accusation one-on-one would be a losing game—so he meant for me to set the Simun, the collective of the tavern waiters, in motion.
"The moment this business is finished, I'm resigning."
I grumbled the words while stroking my cheek.
"I barely hit you hard enough to sting, and already with the theatrics... Do well out there. And give my regards to the Simun Hyangju."
My heart was what ached, I tell you. My heart.
"All ready?"
"Let's board."
Having resolved to charge straight through the front, there was no sense wasting time.
The very next day after Mangeum Hall came calling, I entrusted Daseogak to the Head Butler and the administrative staff and boarded a ship with Im Hayeon.
The ship put out into the current in no time at all, and before long Yichang had shrunk to a speck behind us.
"We solve this together, and we come home together."
"Of course."
I answered Im Hayeon, anxiety plain on her face, with every ounce of conviction I had.
Could I truly rescue Im Hayeon's fate?
What did the Mangeum Lord want from me?
All of it would only be answered in Wuhan.
"By the way, why did you stop by Daseogak one last time before we left?"
Im Hayeon asked, eyeing me as I posed shamelessly in the river wind.
"I left something behind. There are things you'd kick yourself for missing at a moment like this."
It's Hopil...
It's blown up again!!!!!! DAMN IT!!!!!!